


The Story of Gibbs' Coffee Girl

by The_Fictionist_Aura



Category: NCIS
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 16,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fictionist_Aura/pseuds/The_Fictionist_Aura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever wondered how Gibbs gets his perfect coffee every morning? Turns out, he trained someone to do it... Has OC. Series of One-Shots. Has other team members mentioned. Not romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When the new Starbucks located next to NCIS was first finished, I was one of the first to apply for a job. Still in college I was desperate for money and hoped to gain some serious tips from the soon to be regulars of the federal department. The owner hired me on the spot since no one had applied yet…then again the signs weren't even up …which shows I have determination, perfect for a start of an interview.

A flood of NCIS agents came in on the first day but it was the third day that I meet him. My first impression was a bulky no nonsense sort of man with his odd silver haircut and worn hands. As he came closer, I realized he was much older up close and had cold blue eyes. The other worker in the shop, Walter, began to work on his order while I took the order of a short Asian female, a lawyer, I saw from her ID.

Obviously I wasn't paying attention to what Walter was doing but as soon as I had finished and was telling the lawyer the price, I heard a rough male voice start yelling. Turning my head, I saw that the man Walter had been serving was screaming at him over the counter. I was so shocked I didn't even catch the words.

I felt a bill being pushed into my hand and turned back to my customer, giving her the change. She leaned forward as I handed it to her. "You'd better take care of him. That guy yelling over, Gibbs? He's like that every day."

I gave a little nod and gulped as she walked out. Looking back at the memory, the other agents in line had been just as frozen as me, some horrified, others fascinated as if staring at a T-Rex in battle.

"Walter, why don't you take care of the line?" A typical spineless high school junior, he jumped at the chance to escape. I walked tentatively over to the left side of the counter where Gibbs stood fuming.

"How may I help you, Mr. Gibbs?" He didn't seem surprised that I knew his name. "A grande blend with very little sugar, no milk, strong, not weak like that boy just made me." He was more than just a bit cranky.

I nodded and made a fresh batch making it what I considered to be strong. But as soon as he tasted it (before buying) he spat out the words too weak. Very calmly, I put the batch back ignoring his grunts of anger and started on another one making it twice as strong. I let him taste that one from a different cup. He paused. "A bit more sugar." The coffee had calmed him down some.

I brought the sugar jar forward and handed him a clean spoon (our Starbucks didn't have a milk and sugar island, the owner was committed to real service and we were to memorize regulars favorites). I watched and took note of the small portion of the spoon he filled with sugar and placed the jar back as he tasted it. Using this time to look at Walter's progress I saw that he had gotten through several people as I was struggling with one.

When I turned back to Gibbs he gave me a nod and I felt triumphant. "Will you be needing anything else sir?"

"No," he said, better tempered now that he had his coffee. He glanced at my nametag. "Sophie."

"Yep that's me. That'll be-"

But before I could finish, he handed me a ten and walked off. I put the change in the tip box.

When he came the next day, Walter literally shoved me to him and that was the only time I saw a flicker of a smile on his face. Soon the routine every morning was for Walter and the other people that were soon hired to call me down as soon as they saw him. Sometimes he would even ask for me if a person started serving him by accident. He would give his order which was nearly always the same though sometimes he'd ask for more sugar or buy three more regular (extremely weak to him) coffees. I would brew; he would taste then make me do it over until he liked it. After getting the one he wanted he would mellow out and perhaps wish me a good morning while paying. I even remember him saying with a chuckle one rare morning that we should start selling Caf Pow.

(division mabob)

It was a gloomy morning in the city after a pouring of rain the other night and I was the first one to come to work early that day. Seeing a few people standing outside the door I opened up shop and served them by myself. Soon I had finished and no one else seemed to be coming when Gibbs walked in.

But he looked different. His hair was not as tamed as it usually was, his walk was slow and tired, his eyes sad and as he approached, I saw the slight shake in his hands. "The regular and three, no two other coffees." The word two seemed to cut through him which scared me because he always seemed so in control.

"Umm sir perhaps you would like to sit down."

Not saying anything, he sat over by the glass wall and looked outside in deep thought. I completed the order and then made a coffee for myself. By this time I had mastered his coffee so I could get it right on the first try. I hesitated but then grabbed the cookie that I had packed for lunch.

He didn't notice as I walked over to his table and sat down in front of him.

"Mr. Gibbs?"

He turned slowly to me and my heart ached as I looked into his pained eyes. His constant ordering at the shop had given me not only a raise but new found confidence and courage and I pitied him for surely something had upset him.

"Your order." I pushed the three coffee cups in the tray toward him and took a drink from my coffee. I waited for him to take a sip of his own before breaking my cookie in half and offering him a piece. His expression remained the same as he took it from me. He nodded after tasting and murmured the work homemade. I nodded back. The silence that followed was somewhat normal. After all, he wasn't much of a talker.

I finished my coffee and boldly asked if he was alright.

Looking away from the window wall he glanced at me but said nothing for the longest time. "Fine," he finally said, sounding hoarse.

I nodded. "Well," I muttered, getting up from my seat, "I hope you have a good day."

He nodded, his eyes looking at me for real this time. He stood up as well and handed the money for the coffee. I didn't bother to mention that he had automatically paid for one extra coffee. I was heading back to the cash register when he stopped me by grabbing my left elbow. It was the first time he had touched me but I had been so accustomed to his presence it hadn't shocked me.

"Do you need something else?"

"No, but thank you Sophie." I blushed. He had never thanked me before. My eyes widened what he placed a fifty in my hand and said, "For all those tips I never gave."

"Sir, I couldn't possibly-"

'Call me Gibbs. And yes you will take it." Using both of his hands, he closed the bill into my hand.

"That's very generous of you Gibbs but I-"

He leaned forward and kissed my right cheek rendering me speechless.

Without another word, he took his coffees and left.

After that day I refused to take any more personal tips from him but he always thanked me and gave me a kiss on the cheek after ordering his coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: In case, you were wondering, the first kiss on her cheek was supposed to be during the episode right after Kate's death. Kind of like he was starting to value the people in his life more and act a bit nicer just like in the episode when he asked the guys if they wanted coffee.


	2. Chapter 2

But Gibbs didn't always get his own coffee or go alone. Sometimes there was a whole week of different people asking for Sophie to do a Gibbs for them. The first one had been a raven haired goth that waddling around reading nametags. When she read mine she smiled.

"Hey you're Sophie right?"

"Yes.." I said slowly.

"Ok there's this guy that you always serve. He's kind of old but in a distinguished way and he has this luscious silver hair and he has these really nice blue eyes and –"

"Mr. Gibbs?" I tried not to laugh at the thought of his hair been luscious.

"Yeah!" Her ponytails bounces excitedly. "I need the secret formula to his coffee I wanna try and make it and I wanna buy him one for today. Has he come in yet?"

"Nope haven't seen him."

"Ok so show me how you do it." Most of our customers were sitting down eating and since I had gained some respect for always taking care of Gibbs no one complained as I showed her how I made his coffee over the counter. She had pulled out a little black notebook and was taking notes. I had just finished when I saw Gibbs walking in. The goth saw where I was looking and gasped when she saw him.

"Quick hid the coffee!" Feeling childish I stuffed it under the counter.

"Hey Gibbs!" I watched in fascination as she jumped up and gave him a hug. He accepted hugs?

"Abby." He said in greeting. "What are you doing here I thought you hate coffee?"

"Well I'm trying something new Gibbs geez is it a crime?" She turned to me. "Did you finished the coffee I ordered?"

I nodded and handed her the Gibbs cup I had just made.

"Smells strong for you Abby." Gibbs' mouth was twitching.

"Well I like it strong." She then boldly took a sip and tried to contort her face into a smile when you could obviously tell she was lying. "See it's nice and...smooth."

He nodded eyes smiling. "I guess you won't be wanting your Caf Pow then."

Abby looked devastated but nodded. "Yeah not today trying something new. But tomorrow you can get me some!" She then began digging in her purse for her wallet while Gibbs ordered his usual plus a cookie.

I knew exactly who was going to get it.


	3. Chapter 3

I remember the first time I went into the NCIS building. Gibbs had called Starbucks and requested me on the phone. Walter had picked up and poked me to get my attention. "It's Gibbs," he said in a stage whisper forgetting to cover the receiver. I took the phone. "Hello?"

"I need three of my regulars three other coffees and a...McGee...what's the name of that dessert Abby likes now? One scone."

I laughed. "We only have blueberry scones left I hope you won't mind."

"Yes that's fine."

"When will you be coming in sir?"

He paused. "I can't come I have work. I need you to come down here."

"Ummm sir," I blinked rapidly. "I dont think I can do that."

"You can walk on two legs can't you?"

"Of course I-"

"Then come." He hung up. I sighed knowing he must have been in a bad mood to order three coffees and then hang up on me.

Telling Walter I had to go deliver Gibbs coffee (which he had great objection to but he was scared of the man so he wouldn't stop me) I made his order and walked to the NCIS building. The first thing I had to do was go through security which was very boring. After the search and metal detector, they had to call Gibbs to verify the coffee order. I had a feeling that Gibbs had snapped at the security guard because soon he was giving me directions to the office I needed to get to and shoving me in the elevator with some redhead agent in a suit.

"Getting coffee for the team?" She asked. I had taken off my apron before leaving so I must have looked like an agent.

I didn't answer.

She smiled warmly. "Don't worry I'm sure they'll appreciate it. I know I would."

I nodded meekly behind the coffee cups. She then turned to the doors and sure enough they opened and we both got off at the same floor. A short man walked and greeted her with the word Director. I nearly spilled my coffee.

I meet the director of NCIS. Wow.

On my left, I spotted the top of Gibbs head sitting at a desk yelling at the three people around him. One was the McGee who had a nerd look about him. There was Tony who reminded me of a rich snob and Ziva the only female who was very pretty.

I slowly walked toward Gibbs' desk and no one seemed to notice me. It was only until I was standing in front of him that he stopped yelling. Saying nothing, he grabbed one of coffees from the two trays I was holding and took a giant gulp from it. He calmed down. I was a bit nervous since I had never seen him at work nor yell at so many people.

He stood up and took the trays from my hands putting his on his desk (which had the scone) and the other one on Ziva's. I stood still paralyzed. He turned to me and pulled out his wallet fishing for money.

"I got it boss." The man named Tony whipped out a twenty and a card, slipping them into my open hand. "Keep the change. Home numbers on the back," he said with a wink. I blushed.

Gibbs rolled his eyes as Tony sat back down. I heard a squeal from behind me and found myself being turned around and violently hugged by a black blur. "Hello….Abby." I struggled to say.

"Sophie! I did it! That thing we talked about?" I nodded. Abby and I had become friends after the coffee recipe incident having exchanged emails a few days later.

Gibbs reached for the scone and handed it to Abby. "Thank you Gibbs!" She pounced on him as well.

"It was Sophie." He muttered though her shoulder.

I prepared myself for another hug and got one that nearly knocked me over. "Thank you Sophie!"

"You're welcome." I coughed, trying to breathe.

Abby bite into her scone and the rest of the team was drinking coffee. I began to leave when Gibbs touched my elbow and said a soft thank you in my ear.

I nodded and turned to leave again, certain he wasn't going to give me my regular kiss. But he planted one on my right cheek much to my surprise.

Abby smiled. "He does it to you too!"


	4. Chapter 4

Gibbs sometimes came when we were closing up for the day. There was one time when he was particularly exhausted and so was I. It had a busy day and I was dead on my feet. He had came in and ordered two of his regulars. In his hand, I noticed a caffeine free Caf Pow. I mechanically made two coffees for him and took the money without counting, which was against protocol but I was too tired to care.

He murmured a thank you and kissed my left cheek making me jump in sleepy surprise. I had forgotten about it and wasn't prepared.

"You should get some rest." He had already been getting coffee from me for two years and could tell when I was tired.

"I can't." I muttered, a wave of annoyance taking over me.

"Why not?"

"My rental apartments being renovated so I don't have a place to sleep. I need to check in a hotel." I rarely gave out such personal information to anyone but I was frustrated and needed to talk. I gestured toward my two bags of luggage behind the counter. "I didn't have time to book a hotel so I'm scared I'm going to get some bad motel that pays by the hour or be stuck in my car."

"Got friends you can stay over with?" he asked, still looking a tad concerned.

"Most of them are out of town volunteering for girls camp." I grunted irritated at them again. "The only other person that isn't volunteering is Abby and she's busy with a case. She said she would offer me her apartment but it smells like onions after she did a chemistry experiment in her kitchen. Or I could try Tony I still have his number..."

I sighed and then blushed. "I'm sorry that all came out. It's really not my place to go on like that."

Gibbs was eyeing me quietly and I felt embarrassed. Surely he must have thought of me as a whiner. What he said next shocked me.

"You can stay at my house if you need a place to sleep."

"Gibbs," I gasped. "No I –"

"I'll be in NCIS most of the night and no one will be there. You can use the master bedroom since the guest room hasn't been cleaned in a while and there's some food in the fridge." He was already reaching for his key. I quickly grabbed my luggage and began to leave. If I got away fast enough he wouldn't have time to give it to me. I was wrong, of course.

He fiercely got hold of my upper right arm and pressed a key firmly into my hand. "Come, I'll give you directions on your way to your car."

"Gibbs, you don't ha-" I protested again but he firmly shook his head. His eyes made me give in.

He gave me directions to his house as we walked and I tried to memorize them all the while feeling as if I was violating him or something. When we got to my car, he helped me load my luggage and was met with a heavy face licking. Thoroughly embarrassed, I grabbed hold of my dog.

"I'm so sorry! Nancy does that a lot…" He shook his head and let out a laugh. If I wasn't careful, my eyes would have fallen to the ground.

"Take care of yourself ok?" He patted Nancy's head and kissed me on the cheek. I nodded dumbly as he walked away.


	5. Chapter 5

It was beyond strange, pulling up into a foreign driveway with a key to the house it belonged to. I popped open the car door, fiddling with the keys in one hand as I stood still. It was a Craftsman house, a typical home for a new and growing family or a retired couple. I scanned the exterior with my eyes, trying to picture Gibbs living here. Nancy's short bark from her seat in the car woke me out of my trance. Taking a deep breath, I helped her out of the car and headed for the stained glass front door. My fingers traced the ornate pattern of deep colors as I unlocked the door and took my first step inside. Nancy immediately busted into the living room and disappeared into the back of the house.

"Nancy!" I quickly locked the door behind me and raced after my dog. I found her whining with her wet nose pressed against a glass door leading to the backyard. Immediately, I tugged at the wooden handle of the door and watched her blot outside, sniffing the ground intently. I sighed. "It's not even my house and you decide to do your business here." She ignored me of course and continued sniffing around the yard. Pulling out one of the doggie bags I always kept in my purse for moments like this, I stepped off the carpet and onto the grass. Glancing around, I noticed some flower beds nearby and carefully examined them. They were surprisingly thriving considering who was probably taking care of them. In fact, the entire yard was clean and well-kept. Somehow I couldn't picture Gibbs tending the area and made a mental note to ask if he had a gardener.

Once again, Nancy's bark brought me out of my thoughts and wrinkling my nose, I picked her business up and headed back inside into the kitchen. She trotted close behind, pausing to sniff the various kitchen appliances. Dropping the bag into the trash, I couldn't help noticing how bare the kitchen seemed to be. A single pot on the stove, a coffee maker (no surprise there) and no sign of a toaster. The fridge was similar, only housing some beers, a slab of steak, several water bottles and an old Chinese takeout carton. I picked out the carton and glanced inside. Chow mien.

After checking all the cabinets, I managed to locate a fork to eat the old takeout with and indulged myself accordingly. After that, I reached for a bowl from the cabinet to my right and filled it with water for Nancy, who was now lying on the sofa in the living room. Next to her was my entire luggage haul I had managed to single handedly drag into the house from my car. Tossing the now empty carton into the trash, I had the chance to study my surroundings.

The whole place gave off a cabin house in the woods sort of charm, a musty smell throughout the whole house. There was a bare minimum of furniture and most of it looked from either the 70s or the 80s. The sofa Nancy was lying on was placed at a right angle to the now lighted fireplace. I approached the bookcases, which was next to said fireplace and glossed over the titles. Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice, Romeo and Juliet. "Hardly novels a man would read," I muttered, stroking the spines. I wondered if he had a wife.

It had become fairly obvious once I had gotten to know the team more than no one really knew about the man's private life. If Tony knew what I was doing now, he'd probably head right over here with a camera, flashing it on every inch of décor. Over the lapse of time I had known the group, never once was I informed of a significant other Gibbs had where as I knew a whole list of Tony's significant others, there being more than one for every letter in the alphabet. I drew my index finger across the edge of the shelf and looked at my fingertip. Clean.

Absent – mindedly, I continued to run my finger along the book spines until suddenly I touched something cold and jerked back. Sitting on the right side of one of the shelves was a small safe. I glanced around, making sure he wasn't arriving any time soon. Carefully, I took the safe off of the shelf and hesitated before giving it a light shake. There was a dulled rattling from within which gave no clue as to what was inside.

Abruptly I was overcome with a sense of shame. Here I was in another person's house they had so trustingly let me into and here I was acting like a mid-aged nosy neighbor. I put the safe back and took my luggage down the hallway, determined not to look around at anything else as I headed for what looked like the master bedroom. However, in the center of the bed was a face-down rectangular picture frame. It looked as if it had been thrown there carelessly.

I picked it up, turning it over to see a smiling trio in the frame. There was a lone man in the photo who had a strong resemblance to Gibbs except for one thing: the pictured Gibbs had a joyful spark of life in him that radiated right off the frame. I had yet to see the current day Gibbs even close to that content. He had his arms wrapped around a beautiful redhead woman and a young brunette girl, around the age of six. Frowning, I placed the frame upright on the nightstand, feeling as though I had spied on a private family moment. Nancy flopped onto the bed, obliviously to my curiosity at the photo. Perhaps, I thought as I lazily striped to my undershirt only and joined my dog on the bed, I could get my answers tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-reading previous chapters, I realize I had outlined this to be a series of one-shots yet this chapter is slowly turning this into a story. I'll try to stay in the one shot type zone though – various stages of Gibbs' life and having Sophie learn more and more about him. Also, credit to Julie507 on FF.net for helping me out with the house description.


	6. Chapter 6

My inside of my eyelids shined a bright orange as the morning light filled the room and I groaned. I had no wish to remove myself from this comfortable oasis of cotton sheets. Rolling over to the left end of the bed, my hand reached out blindly for a clock of sorts. My nose was buried into a pillow that had an aroma of sawdust and Old Spice. Suddenly my eyes shot open and I remembered where I was. The red lights on the old alarm clock blinked 6:13 A.M. repeatedly. Hastily putting on a pair of sweatpants from my luggage, I shuffled my way down the hall and into the kitchen, not bothering to brush my teeth.

"Coffee," I mumbled, operating the old coffee maker I had spotted yesterday and dumping two spoonfuls of coffee grind I had found hiding in a bottom cabinet. The hiss of the fresh coffee dripping was welcome in the overall silence of the house. "Nancy?" No answer. I guessed she must be roaming somewhere in the house. I waved my hand to my non- existent audience. "I'll find her later."

My eyelids drooped. It was rather peaceful here. If I hadn't known better, I would think I was in the middle of the woods, miles away from civilization on a retreat. It was the complete opposite of the normal hustle and bustle of the Capitol. My fingers drummed on the mismatched black mug I had found, the words "Number 1 Boss" painted in bright yellow on it. I traced the letters. No doubt a gift from Tony or Tim. It didn't seem Ziva's style.

The coffee maker shrieked a high note, signaling the coffee was done. I pour the dark brown liquid in my mug that already had a pile of sugar sitting at the bottom. There was no milk in the fridge so I found myself sipping black coffee.

I coughed and gagged at the bitter taste on my taste. It was as if I had swallowed pure coffee beans. Abandoning the mug on the corner, I took to the sink to thoroughly rinse out my tongue. Obviously Gibbs' blend was too strong for normal consumption. Minorly annoying but fully awake now, I headed back to the bedroom and went to brush my teeth in the nearby bathroom. Splashing water on my face, I noticed the mirror medicine cabinet and peeked inside. There was Old Spice, a cheap brand of deodorant, shaving cream and razor as well as some spare toothpaste. I took a tube and squeezed some of the white substance onto my brush. As I brushed, I couldn't help looking around. There were no decorations on the walls except for a single frame crayon drawing. It hang directly behind and depicted three stick figures sitting on what look like a poorly drawn picnic blanket with red and white checkers. Two of the figures had brown scribbles for hair while the other had bright orange lines on either side of its face. Spitting into the sink, my mind flashed back to the framed photo on the nightstand.

I walked back to the kitchen, this time planning to drink water for the sake of my taste buds. I reached over for the mug of coffee to dump the far too strong coffee down the sink. My hands reached at nothing. The mug was gone.

My stomach instantly knotted and I spun around nervously. I probably just emptied it out automatically…right? "Nancy?" I shouted, feeling the need for some canine protection. There was a muffled bark but not from the location I was expecting. It sounded like it was coming from below the house. I shook my head in confusion. Suddenly aware of the fact that I was indeed alone in a strange house, I took a knife from one of the kitchen drawers and began walking toward the sound of the bark I had just heard. Nancy barked again, ending the sound in a whine. My heart hammered in my chest.

This time I could tell it came from a door passed most of the bedrooms and toward the back of the house. Hesitantly, I opened the door slowly, revealing an old wooden staircase. My head popped in and I found myself looking at the huge skeleton of a boat. Gibbs was seated on its right side, sanding something down based on the scratching noises I heard. Nancy was at his feet, looking at me and wagging her tail in excitement. The coffee mug from earlier was resting on a stool nearby.

I carefully went down the stairs; they creaked with every step. It was only when I reached the bottom that Gibbs finally lifted his head and nodded to me. "Morning," He said shortly. His eyes flickered from my face to the knife in my hand.

I blushed, realizing how I must look. "I…um," I stepped forward and set the knife down next to the mug. "I thought you might still be at NCIS…" my voice trailed off and I pressed my hands to my red cheeks.

He slowly rose up from his seat and made his way to the stool with the mug. Raising it to his lips, his eyes twinkled a bit. I had a sense he was amused. "Thanks for the coffee."


	7. Chapter 7

I still had my suspicions about Gibbs' past, the happy picture of the trio on my mind occasionally. I was curious about his loss. Pitied him even. Once I tried to get Abby to tell him but she had been firm in her resolution to take the secret to her grave.

"He has to tell you!" She had exclaimed, barely drowning out the techno racket booming in the background of the cell phone reception one night. She had spent the last hour or so complaining about Agent McGee and his trying to 'make her his'. Somehow the ranting on and on about his advances had swung around to Gibbs. How we got on the subject, to this day, I cannot recall.

"What am I going to do, ask him?" I grumbled. A part of me felt guilt for wanting to pry. A part of me felt guilt for wanting to pry. Yet this man had been nothing but friendly and helpful (once he had his coffee of course) to me. The only solid thing I knew about him was his name and that he liked coffee and doing woodwork. I could easily get the same information from any other cordial coffee costumer in minutes through small talk as served them. In Gibbs' case, I had collected this information over the course of years.

"Yes! He likes you. If there's anything I've learned, it's that coffee and good forensic evidence are the keys to Gibbs' heart." She sounds so serious I couldn't help but laugh.

A few days later, I had been scrubbing down some of the coffee tables in the shop after giving Gibbs' one of his regulars. We were fairly busy as it was morning rush hour. Most people in line were chatting away on their cell phones and almost all the people seated at a table had a laptop in front of them. Except for Gibbs. On this rare occasion, he was sitting down and drinking from his cup in a left corner table. I spotted a newspaper on his left, a pair of old-fashion looking glasses perching on top. His attention was not on the newspaper or the window he was facing. Instead, his eyes were locking on a father and daughter waiting in line. I glanced at them.

The light brown haired father was dressed in a business suit and like half of the city, has blabbing away on a Bluebooth like there was no tomorrow. He loosely held his daughter's left hand with his right. She wore a bright yellow dress, a Dora backpack, a simple ponytail and had the look of a six year old. Most likely, she was being dropped off to school before her dad went to work.

"Daddy…" She was softly whining, pulling at her father's pant leg for at least three minutes now.

Finally, her parent looked down at her, annoyed. "What, Rachel? Can't you tell Daddy's busy?" He whispered down to her, covering his Bluebooth with a tip of his finger.

"Can I have an oatmeal cookie for my lunch?" The child smiled meekly. Her feet shuffled in their Velcro strapped sandals as she asked.

"No." His answer was too sharp for a six year old. He gave her hand a light jostle. "We are getting my coffee and leaving. Daddy needs coffee to get him through the day. You," his index finger jabbed at the air near her, 'don't need a cookie to get through school. You need carrots and celery. You are being very selfish." He half spat before returning to his rapid fire conversation with his colleague. From what I gathered before, he had been complaining about his boss.

Needless to say, the girl was saddened. Her lower lip trembled and her blonde ponytail shook a bit but she did not cry or have a tantrum. She had the perfect look of a defeated kid.

I shook my head but returned to scrubbing tables with a new vigor. All she wanted was a cookie, my maternal side thought. If you really didn't want to buy it for her, you could have just said something like 'Not now' instead of call her selfish. Or going on about health, after all, she had asked for an oatmeal cookie. Of all the cookies to choose from. The table's feet rattled underneath me as I continued scrubbed the same spot in a circle.

Two tables later, I heard a familiar voice murmur "Could help hearing that someone wanted a cookie." Immediately I looked up to see Gibbs kneeling in front of the little girl, an oatmeal cookie held out in offering. The father looked taken back before smiled briefly.

"That's kind of you, sir," The business man nodded, struggling to be nonchalant. If anything, he looked a tad embarrassed. A few people were looking at Gibbs, eyes lit up in silence approval.

The agent only had eyes for the girl who has hesitating to take the cookie. "But it's yours." She looked confused.

"I'm giving it to you." His voice had a soft quality I had never heard before. "Will you take it for your lunch?" Her little hand slowly took the cookie from his callused ones. She smiled, looking from the cookie to him.

"Thank you." Gibbs just nodded before rising back to his feet. I couldn't help noticing that it looked like a bit of a struggle.

"Eat it after lunch, Rachel," the father light remained his daughter before turning to Gibbs. "You know how kids are, spoiling their meals." He waved his hand as he talked.

Gibbs' face had a flash of sadness as he replied. "I know."

I blinked. So he had a child. Once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- This just came to me when I saw a GIF set for the episode titled See No Evil. Originally I was planning this as a one shot separate from this story but then this happened. I might also post it separately, maybe from Gibbs' view. Not sure yet.


	8. Chapter 8

Gibbs turned the doorknob and let out a small breath as he entered his home. It had been a day without a case and he had more than a touch of restlessness about him. He preferred to have a case to work on and think about rather than to be reminded of his own lack of a life. Not that he minded, of course. He relished it for the most part. Still it did not do good to dwell on it too long. It tended to bring back memories.

_Scratch_

_Scratch_

_Scraaaatch_

Immediately Gibbs had his gun out, a steely look taking over his features. His entire body had grown tense and a small vein in his neck was more pronounced than before. The sound was coming from the back of the house. He treaded lightly down the hallway, pausing at every doorway with his gun in front of him. The agent had the urge to shout clear even though he was alone in his endeavors. Old habits, he guessed.

Finally, he made his way to the master bedroom, which was empty. A light layer of dust hung over a dresser in the corner. It didn't appear as though anyone else had been there. But the noise continued, closer and louder now.

_Scratch_

_Scratch_

Gun still drawn, he approached the sliding glass doors that opened up to his backyard and swiftly opened the blinds.

Two pairs of beady eyes looked back at him expectantly. The gray and white Italian greyhound wagged its tail vigorously as Gibbs pulled open the slightly ajar door. Her pointed nose poked inside and her tongue didn't stop licking his hand until she was standing in front of him.

"Nancy…." The dog's head tilted to one side and its ears popped up a bit in attention.

"How did you get in here?" He glanced at the fence in his yard. It was rather tall for a dog to scale, even a greyhound as big as Nancy. And though the front door was unlocked, he had yet to see a dog lock itself outside before. Then again, Leroy didn't know that much about dogs. Shannon had always pestered him about getting a guard dog but he had always replied 'you've already got one' while pointing to himself.

He headed back for the kitchen. Naturally, Nancy followed him, trotting happily as if she had lived her all her life. In truth, it had only been one night but by the looks of things, the greyhound liked the house a bit too much. She had curled up into a C shape as she watched the man fill a bowl with water and set it before her. She nudged it with her snout.

Gibbs let a sound between a cough and snort. "Drink." He used the voice he reserved for the team during his many times of short temper. Lazily, the dog flicked her tongue in and out of the bowl, taking care not to move from her all too comfortable position. Meanwhile, Leroy glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was nearly midnight. Something told him that as much as Sophie loved her canine companion, she probably could wait until morning. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the after math of the small adrenaline rush from a couple minutes ago. He needed sleep. And maybe some whiskey.

Lapping sounds of tongue against water didn't stop as he sauntered off to the basement, an idea for a new project on his mind. Looking over at the different slab of wood available to him, he felt calm. This was his sort of therapy. Doing something productive with his hands, being bathed in sawdust every night. In some ways, it was his custom lullaby. It only failed him during times of true grief, Kate's face automatically swimming in his mind. He shoved it away, his breathing hitched at the memory.

Once he picked some wood for the job, he became the long process of sanding every inch. By the time, he had noticed the greyhound coming down the stairs, his hands had a thin coat of white powder on them already. Nancy inched toward him, nose moving up and down at the different scents. Sawdust. Alcohol. Faded shampoo.

Gibbs chuckled as the dog gave his hand yet another lick before sneezing. A small cloud of dust burst from her snout .

"It's your own fault, really." Nancy let out another sneeze before lying down in front of his feet, her head resting on his shoe. He could feel her breathing as she relaxed, utterly content with her surroundings. Leroy shook his head. He had to admit, it was different, talking to someone who didn't answer back with words. Someone who didn't mind silence.

He went back to sanding the wood with new energy. Maybe he needed a dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – I was watching Animal Planet and saw an Italian greyhound xD then this happened. Plus I needed some practice – this is my first time trying to write from Gibbs' POV.


	9. Chapter 9

After stifling his fifth yawn, he decided it was time to call it a night. In truth, it was how he usually went to sleep at night. There was never a need for a clock in the basement since he went to sleep when he needed to. Nancy was, by then, lightly snoring onto of his shoe. The warm weight had been different from the cold chill Gibbs had grown accustom to. He dragged himself up off his work bench and gradually made his way up the stairs. Nancy let out an annoyed huff at her new found pillow being pulled from under her but dutifully trotted after the man.

It was strange having noise in the house. Heavy panting seemed to echo through the walls next to his odd shuffle. As the years went on, the agent tried not to notice how his walk slowed and how finger aches became common place. The dog sat impatiently at the door of the guest bedroom.

"You think you own the place, don't you?" Her tail thumped happily at the question. Gibbs rolled his eyes before continuing down the hall to his own room. He held the door open for Nancy before sitting down the edge of the bed. Rubbing his eyes, Gibbs reclined carefully into the old mattress, shoes and all. He had never been one for pajamas. Not after he began sleeping alone. He didn't lie to himself and say he was lazy or too tired to change. He simply didn't have a reason to anymore. Maybe he would…one day. He blinked painfully. It was too late to be thinking this way. There was a loud creak and he bounced up slightly from his comfortable position. He turned around the glare at Nancy, who had decided to accompany him to bed. The hound just blinked innocently before resting her head on the pillow beside him. He vaguely remembered falling asleep with a smile.

~~NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS~~

Gibbs groaned, the sunlight from sunshine blinding him. He could feel Nancy's tongue thoroughly bathing his arm in slobber. "Off," he growled, pulling his arm away. A minute later, he was making his daily trek to the coffee maker, a firm frown plastered on his face. His hands mechanically began making a batch as his thoughts wandered.

Shannon had told him more than once that he had a serious caffeine addiction. Truth be told, he had stealing sips of his father's coffee at the age of five. Later on, he suspected his old man knew. Jackson had always known to down his mug of black joe in one gulp. However, by the time he was seven, his father had developed a routine of making coffee, finishing half of it and then going off to do some shop errand, usually sweeping. And he never showed any surprise when he returned to a quarter cup of coffee left. Once Leroy was in his early teens, Jackson would return to an empty cup. It was then he was allowed to have his own cupful, despite his mother's disapproval.

The aroma of fresh coffee pulled him back to earth and his entire body leaned toward the maker. "Coffee addict," he murmured to himself as he poured it into a gift Abby had given to him three years ago. It was a dull silver metal travel mug that rarely used ever since he had meet Sophie at Starbucks. Today, however, he would be heading to her home to drop off her stubborn dog.

He whistled for her as he approached the door, car keys in one hand, mug in the other. Gibbs heard her nails scrapping against wooden stairs before she emerged from the basement. After a violent sneeze, she run and collapsed on the living room sofa. Nancy curled up and shut her eyes, completely ignoring the feeling of frustration oozing from the human in the room.

"Nancy…get in the car."

The canine was quiet as a mouse.

"Nancy…." Gibbs took a slow sip from his mug, willing himself to return his friend's dog in one piece. "Get in the car….NOW."

It was as if someone had poked her with a pitchfork. The greyhound sparked to life and blotted out the door. The ex – marine couldn't help chuckling as the dog sit down next to his car in the driveway, the picture of obedience. He opened the front door of his car and nodded. Nancy climbed over the driver's seat and settled into the passenger seat in no time. Shaking his head, he took the driver's seat and started the car. "How does she live with you…"

~~NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS~~

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to remember where to turn. It had been a while since he dropped Sophie back at her apartment from staying the night. It was true – she hadn't let him see much of the inside. In fact, she almost refused to let him lift a finger to help her anymore than he already did. It took at least six minutes for him to convince her to let him carry some of her luggage upstairs. Even then, she had given him a quick hug before dashing into her apartment. He remembered the rapid click of the lock and some shuffling. Nancy had been fairly calm at the time, lying down near his feet eyeing the door. After a few more minutes, Sophie burst through and grabbed the bags from him before disappearing back into her apartment beet red. Somewhere in the mix, the dog had snuck in. He had stood there a few seconds, staring the closed door in front of him. Never had he seen her so uncomfortable and that included the time Dinozzo was openly flirting with her.

"There." Spotting the complex, he made a sharp turn into the parking lot and scanned the area. It was a typical apartment complex with two story buildings scattered throughout the land. There was a small public pool in a corner and from his window; he could make out two children paddling underwater. Nancy's tail was wagging at a faster pace now, her head turned back to him in anticipation. Gibbs turned off the car and took a deep breath before stepping out of the vehicle. The dog followed him closely. Not the first time, he wondered what had brought the dog to his humble household this morning. Gibbs walked into the lobby with a new sense of purpose, a spark of worry in his eyes. Different thoughts flickered in his mind as he jogged up the stairs to the second floor. The dog reached Apartment 212 before he did, sniffing under the door. Gibbs hesitated before firmly knocking on the white door.

"Sophie? It's Gibbs."

Silence.

"Sophie?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – A review corrected me on the Italian greyhound size and they are right xD the size I want Nancy to be would have to be a normal greyhound so I will change that accordingly. Or maybe just imagine a large Italian greyhound…


	10. Chapter 10

It took two seconds for his instincts to kick in. He kicked the door in one, his hand hovering over his gun holster. Instantly, he realized that the door had been open and another alarm bell went off in his head. Nancy’s tail had tucked under her legs at the loud bang of the door being ripped off its hinges. His eyes scanned the apartment feverishly.

Gibbs first took note of a single coffee mug sitting on the kitchen counter. Other than that, there was no sign of life in the area. It was a cozy space with a modern concrete ceiling. A leather sofa with spotless upholstery and an unfeeling coffee table. There were two skyscraper windows on either side of the far wall. Bright and blinking sunlight poured into the room. The walls were bare and a bright and eccentric yellow, something he would not expected Sophie. In a lower right corner, hand – painted blue flowers were lazily drawn. It had the look of a kindergarten’s work but it had the steadiness of a grown artist. He squinted his eyes, the bright color burning his retina. 

The apartment was pristine, almost as if it had been recently cleaned. Either no signs of a struggle or someone had cleaned it up very well. He felt a small tinge of anger at the thought. Aiming his gun with his motion, he turned left toward a short hallway. It was littered with photo frames – all of which had a smiling picture of Sophie in them. He scanned them briefly, seeing no signs of blood spatter. The first door to the left was a pint sized bathroom. The glass shower door was open and the floor mat askew. Gibbs narrowed in on the open toothpaste and the toothbrush lying in the sink. The faucet was still dripping. 

Two feet away was a wide open door into what looked like the young woman’s bedroom. Once again, no sign of life other than himself and the cautious dog that shadowed him as he went. The sheets had been left tossed open and there was an alarm clock lying on the ground. The twin bed took up most of the room’s space. Gibbs was forced to climb over it to check the closet. Sophie’s clothes hung neatly, color coordinated – shoes included. There was a guitar case resting the corner and a neat of notebooks next to it. No one hiding inside. The special agent frowned as he climbed over the bed once more. All of the evidence in the apartment seemed to say that Sophie had left the premise in a hurry. Yet if it was an emergency, he was certain she would have brought Nancy with her – of that he was sure. Different scenarios ran through his mind, none very pleasant. His eyes wandered to her nightstand. Other than a lamp and a spot where the alarm had obviously sat, there was a framed photo. In it, a younger looking Sophie and an older woman were laughing on a kitchen counter. Neither of them was looking towards the camera but it was still a beautiful picture. 

“Nancy?”

The dog shot up in attention at Sophie’s faint voice. Her nails scrapped noisily against the hardwood as she scurried off to meet her master. Gibbs felt a sudden wave of relief come over him. She was safe. His hands automatically put his gun away and he walked toward the hallway slowly. 

Sophie squealed as the dog jumped on her chest. “Nancy, down…DOWN!” But her tone of voice did nothing to stop the greyhound from licking her face clean of makeup.

And that was how Gibbs found Sophie. Sprawling on the floor under several pounds of dog. He smiled briefly before leaning down to pry the overly – eager dog away. Sophie gasped at him. Her hands immediately rose up to her chest.   
“Gibbs?!? How did you – “

He couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at her sudden posture. Not answering right away, he offered a hand to help her up. After an unhealthy pause, she took it and bounced right side up with a piercing clack. Surprised at the sound, Gibbs glanced downward at her feet. She wore open toed high heels that stressed her leg muscles. Her toes were painted a promiscuous red. Travelling upward, her hesitation made a bit more sense. Sophie was dressed very unlike anything he had seen her in before. Usually she wore (when not in her Starbucks uniform) jeans or pants and modest tops. And never heels – always flats or sneakers. However, today, she was dressed in an angular short white skirt that was very close to underwear height. On top, a slick black top with fishnet shoulders. Her black bra would have been very visible to him had Sophie not still been hugging herself, shielding her chest. Her hair was still tousled from her being of the floor. Had he not known her, he could see her easier passing for one of Holly Snow’s girls.

“Nancy showed up at my house last night. Figured I’d return her before she chewed up my living room.” 

Sophie shifted her weight foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. She had smiled shortly at the comment but the smiled faded just as quickly as it came. Slowly, her eyes widened and her face turned red in realization.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” She exclaimed, eyes blinking rapidly in alarm. “I must have rushed out and left the door open or something. I was in such a hurry yesterday to make it to the gig.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes in frustration.

“She didn’t really eat anything, did she?”

“No.” Gibb’s small amusement came out in his voice.

Her heels clicked as she headed over to the kitchen sink, eyes open and hands fumbling with the edge of her shirt. Her back was to Gibbs. He saw her shoulders relax at the new position.

“I thought someone had broken in, with the door off its hinges and all.” She took a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “I’m so sorry – I’m just not used to such frights.” The coffee girl let out a laugh and turned to face him.

“You and your agents - this is probably a walk in the park for you. “ She was hugging her sides again. 

“The door was me,” the older man looked a bit sheepish. He also had not moved from his spot in the room. Sophie could see sympathy in his eyes though. He seemed concerned for her.

“What ‘gig’ had you in such a hurry to leave?” His eyes were still concerned though now laced with wariness. The woman gulped at his sudden seriousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Annnnnnd couple months later and one update – YAY! xD hope you guys like it – I plan to have the next chapter go back to Sophie’s point of view. Left you guys a bit of a cliffy :3 I think you will be very surprised where this goes next. Muhahaha – misleading foreshadowing…or is it?
> 
> If you want to see her outfit, check out my profile – the link below “For links described in my stories, please visit this Tumblr post.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This is mainly Sophie centric chapter

The feeling in her belly reminded her very much of getting caught leaving the house without permission back in her teen years. Sophie used to have the nasty habit of climbing the fence of their gated community to attend local concerts with friends. Nowadays of course, she was an independent woman. Yet she could feel Gibbs’ stare in her back just like her father used to. Her clothes certainly weren’t helping the situation. Still hugging herself, she found herself shrugging and looking downward as she answered.

“One of the bars I was interested in performing for called me and begged for me to come and fill in for a cancellation – it’s the first one I’ve had in months and to be honest I just scrambled and ran out the door. They called me an hour before the assigned time. Not exactly professional but…I was eager to please…” Suddenly embarrassed at her own admission, she clattered over to her cup shelf and began to needlessly rinse an old mug.

Gibbs tried his best to mask his surprise. “You never mentioned being a musician before.” He had a vague idea that she was – if only from a few glances at a guitar case and her sometimes unconscious habit of tapping out song beats when the radio was on. It was clear to him now that she had a passion for it.

“It’s not something I go around announcing. It’s more like an unrealistic dream of mine.” The sink ran over her bright red nails. After a pause, she turned off the water and turned to face him, glass still in hand.

“And the outfit?” Anyone who didn’t know the agent well enough would call his expression unfathomable. However, the coffee girl could sense a bit of disapproval and she bristled a little.

Walking towards her bedroom with a stab in her step, Sophie threw her voice over her shoulder. “Well, I was going to a bar, wasn’t I?” In reality, she had a feeling he wouldn’t be caught dead in such a place. It had a youthful club atmosphere which she suspected DiNozzo would appreciate. And perhaps Ziva as well. The sort of bar she imagined the bar Gibbs would frequent involved old tavern swinging doors, old cowboy boots and shots of hard liquor. With each man in the room equipped with a holstered gun.

Meanwhile, Jethro had wisely chosen not to answer her snappy retort. He didn’t need to be a genius to see that Sophie was a bit upset. She slammed her bedroom door rather than closed it and even Nancy jumped at the noise. He could hear the young woman opening and closing drawers in haste, probably looking for clothes to wear. With Nancy trotting behind him, he lowered himself into the leather sofa and then stifled a grunt. The piece of furniture was solid, stabbing his back like a piece of plywood.

A few minutes later, Sophie patted back to the living room. An oversized black sweatshirt reached below her knees and contrasted sharply to her white sweatpants and bare feet. Her finished toenails mismatched with her overall lounge look. As she lazily put her hair in a ponytail, she glanced at him with mild annoyance. Quite frankly, she wore the outfit to draw attention to herself. Being an unknown artist, performing in bars – while a good way to start – usually just meant singing to drunks. Unless you do something to make them listen – this was why there was a small section of her waredrobe that no one could pay her to wear during daylight. In addition, the scantily made clothing made her feel…empowered. Sexy.

Perhaps her rattled and angry response to the agent’s very brief radiation of disapproval was due to that it hit too close to home. Her mother had been very heavily against her dream to create music as a career or even as a hobby. During her teenage years, there was one instance where her mother had literally thrown her guitar on the floor and broke it in frustration. Since then, their relationship crumbled and Sophie hadn’t heard from her for several years. Her father, on the other hand, tended to support her in whatever she chose to do. While he was not fond of her clothing choices for her performances, he would always ask her how her latest gig went when she called. Blinkingly twice, she pulled herself out of her thoughts. She was being far too sensitive.

Gibbs tilted his head slightly, his eyes locked on the damaged door. Sophie followed his gaze and cracked a small smile. “I should probably get that fixed.”

He chuckled before getting up from his rock like seat. “Leave it.” As her face scrunched up in a confused frown, Gibbs gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before patting Nancy on the head. With a few strides, he was out of the door and down the hallway.

Unconsciously, she shook her head. She spent the next hour or so double - checking that none of her possessions were missing. The apartment complex was safe enough, single parent households mainly but she figured it better to be safe than sorry. She had been opening her nightstand drawer when Nancy blotted from her lazy bed spot and out of the room. Puzzled, Sophie followed the canine out to the main living area. The greyhound had rearranged herself on the floor next to the door where Gibbs was diligently attending to her front door. A new door was prompted against an interior wall.

“…you bought me a new door.”

The silver head bobbed upward. “Yeah.”

“Gibbs, you bought me a new door I can’t –“

“Yes you can.” Turning back to the nail he was unscrewing, his tone left no room for negotiation.

Sophie put her hands on her hips and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t you have some coffee to go make?” The jest in his voice was obvious and Sophie couldn’t help but giggle.

“Yes and you’re not getting any.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I struggled with this argggggh sorry. But yay update! I’m determined to make next chapter based on a NCIS episode so we will see.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Back to Sophie’s POV

Abby never called.

At least unless we were meeting up somewhere and couldn’t see each other which in reality didn’t really make sense considering Abby’s stand out fashion sense.  Even then, it always started with a standard text of “where are you girl?” 

So when the goth called at 4:30 in the morning, I was naturally a little alarmed. 

“Hello?”  No doubt, my voice sounded a little sketchy.  I cleared my throat on instinct.

“It’s G-Gibbs…”  Abby’s voice sounded even sketchier than usual, almost as if she had been crying.

I sat upright in bed and turned my hair behind my ear.  “Abby, what’s going on, are you alright?”  Is Gibbs alright, I subconsciously wondered.

“He’s in a coma.  He was investigating a ship and – there was an explosion and I went in to see him and he looked bad, like his face was burnt and he had no expression I mean he normally doesn’t have that much of an expression except for a little twinkle in his right eye and that mouth twitch he does wh-“

“Slow down Abby,” I began rubbing my head, trying to take in at least half of the jumbled monologue.  “Gibbs is in a coma?”

“Yeah,” there is a loud sniffle that came through the line.

“…I’ll be over in a few.”  Hanging up, I stretched my legs out off of the bed, hearing them pop from being still for a few hours.  Ignoring my two yawns in a row, I made my way down the hall for what turned out to be a very long night.

~NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS~

As I drove in the dead of night, I couldn’t help feeling how weird and unreal it all seemed.  Gibbs had always seemed like an unbreakable source.  I couldn’t even picture him sleeping like a normal human – not when there were cases to be solved and agents to be yelled at.  I blinked rapidly, not realizing my eyes had grown watery.  Probably just something in my eye.  I took a shaky breath and continued down the road.   By the time I got to Abby’s building, she was standing sadly outside in well used skeleton pajamas, laced combat boots and holding a far too decorative black umbrella. 

She scurried into the passenger seat of my car as if it was pouring cats and dogs outside instead of the dead silence of the early morning. 

“Hey, Sof.  Sorry for c-calling for late.”  Abby looked pale – paler than usual.  Despite having a face of makeup on, I could clearly see the tear trails down her face.  Obviously she had waterproof mascara on since her eyes were puffy and red.  She noticed my scrutiny and just gave me a small smile.  “I just got back from the hospital and couldn’t sleep and Tony, McGee and Ziva are busy investigating already, Palmer’s…somewhere and I don’t know if anyone has told Ducky yet and I just wanted some company that wasn’t running around trying to investigate the bombing!”  She wrung her hands into her now closed umbrella.  “It’s good I guess.   I just can’t bring myself to go to Major Mass Spec while Gibbs is just lying there in a coma, ya now?”  Abby’s bangs fluttered as she shook her head, staring at the dashboard. 

“I just feel so useless but I knew I would just be just as useless in the lab, trying to work the evidence when Gibbs is just in the b-“ She sniffed heavily before grabbing me rather violently into a hug.  I sighed and rubbed her back.  We stayed in comfortable silence for a while. 

Finally, Abby pulled away and gave me another smile.  “Thanks Sof.  That helped.”

I nodded, turning on the ignition of my car again.  “How about we visit him?  I don’t see either of us getting sleepy anytime soon…”  And I certainly couldn’t distract her from his accident.

Abby bobbed her head up and down.  “He would like that.”

So back to the hospital together we went.  The forensic scientist was unnaturally silent which just made my large sense of dread grow.  In truth, I felt more like a friend of Gibbs than just his coffee girl.  I never realized, however, what a stable part of my life he had become.  The thought of him being in a coma made my stomach flip and my mouth dry.  I found myself wiping my eyes profusely even as Abby lead me to Gibbs’ room, past Trauma One.  The first thing I noticed was the slim form of a redheaded female in red lying awkwardly half in a chair and half in Gibbs’ bed. But then I saw him. 

His nose and forehead were scattered with burns.  An ugly tube was stuffed in his mouth and he looked…not very alive.  I gulped and hesitated before coming closer.  He looked – strangely peaceful.  To be honest, Gibbs while conscious usually was agitated, focused or just stony.  He did have his burst of humor and such but – his face in a coma had a look of final rest that was comforting as it was mildly disturbing.  My hand drifted over his face.

“Do you know who did this?”

Abby shuffled closer.  “We have some ideas – based on what Gibbs was doing but nothing too solid yet.” She seemed to be watching me rather closely all of a sudden.  I pulled my hovering hand away and rubbed my eyes again. 

“Do you think he’ll be ok?”  My voice was very quiet as I asked.  I was no science major and all the comas you ever hear about either come out miraculously or never come out at all.  Somehow, my mind lingered towards the darker possibility.  I refocused on the sleeping woman beside Gibbs and frowned.  “Is that…the director?”

I had seen the fiery female director in action a few times since my first run in with her on a coffee run.  She was always kind to me but came off rather rude when talking to her own agents, in particular Gibbs’ team.  Or perhaps I came in at the wrong times.  Either way, it was really surprising for me to see her at Gibbs’ bedside, of all places.

“Ya, they have a…special relationship.”  The goth whispered, her eyes agleam with gossip briefly.  “History and all.”  She smiled at the sleeping figure. 

I nodded dumbly again, partially still numb from the whole situation.  Actually seeing the older agent tied up to machines made Abby’s story so real.  I could only hope for the best now.  So I simply bowed my head when I felt Abby give me a hug from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hopefully Abby isn’t too OOC - I tried. It’s been a while. As you can tell, this is meant to be during the episode “Hiatus Part 1”. Thanks for being so patient with my updates and have a great day!


	13. Chapter 13

Abby was called in the next day or rather she called herself in, choosing to go to work rather than sit at home worrying.  She had been texting me updates on things down in NCIS (no case specifics naturally) and how the team was handling things.  Which did not sound particularly good.  Ziva was an emotional zombie, Tony was put in charge and fairly tense, McGee was…being clingy apparently?  And the director practically lived in Gibbs’ hospital room. 

I myself went to work as my new position as Starbucks manager for the next few days.  I continued to do my usual job applications at night – unsure of how to feel about the whole situation.  Logically, it didn’t make sense and wouldn’t really help Gibbs for me to watch him sleep in a coma.  Yet it felt weird and somewhat insulting to go about the usual rounds in the coffee shop.    It was even worse to see DiNozzo storm in and order eight coffees a day.  He came in every day at 12:15 PM precisely and very curtly made his order to me or one of my colleagues.  While his general outward appearance radiated the typical NCIS agent aura, his eyes were sharper and harsher than usual.  And his usually pristine lips (he had a thing for lip balm) was chapped and chewed on.  The most off-putting thing was that way he addressed me.  Or rather, the lack thereof.  Whenever I came into NCIS, he was quick to drop a pick up line with every breath but in the days of Gibbs’ coma, he was serious.  The closest thing to happiness I saw on his face when he visited was when I addressed him stiffly as Mr. DiZozzo in a moment of spite.

“Trying to make me feel old, eh?”

I had simply bit back my retort and handed him his coffee.

~NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS~

On my day off, I had no hesitation in my mind as I arrived at the hospital at the very beginning of visiting hours – 11 AM.  With all the team working on the case, and the director back in NCIS, according to Abby, I doubted I could get special privilege to see Gibbs any earlier than any other citizen.  I was right.

“Your relation to the patient?”  An older African-American nurse was scathingly questioning me from behind the counter.  “E. Washington” was lasered onto her name tag and a permanent frown seemed glued to her face.

“Friend.”  I replied as passively as I could muster.  She had been overly through on verifying my information and relation to Gibbs – for what reason, I had no idea.

“Are you an NCIS agent?”

And how was any of this relevant?

“No,” my face must have betrayed some of my irritation as her eyes flashed briefly.  “I work at a coffee shop that he frequently visits– that’s how we met.  I was here with a girl named Abby a few days ago.”

At the name Abby, Nurse Washington seemed to relax a little.  “As long as you’re not with that rude Shepard character…”

“Director Shepard?”

“Skinny white thing with a red hair cut?”  The nurse looked as if she was speaking about a bug of some sort. 

I nodded.

“She’s been every day, fussing and bothering Dr. Gelfand nonstop.  The poor man has no room to even do this job.  If she’s interested in doctors, she ought to try Craigslist.”

I blinked rapidly at the insulting comment.  I had no positive or negative feelings about the director, really.  As I always said, she was nice to me and strict with her agents.  It was all I knew and all I hoped to know.  But I was surprised by this rather brash and unprofessional comment about a hospital visitor. 

“I’m…sorry to hear that?”

The nurse continued to shake her head as she filled out my name tag for the visitation day. I heard her mutter something about “rice” as I left and couldn’t help wondering what was becoming of our medical care system.

When I finally reached Gibbs’ room, my stomach tightened at the sight of him.  I didn’t really know why; he looked exactly the same as a few nights ago.  Standing next to his left bedside, I looked down at him more carefully.  He looked somehow small, with all the tubes around him and the machines (which I’m sure he would hate) wheezing around him.  The white sheets gave sharp contrast to his skin, making it look more red and blotchy than usual. His face, however, had less burns that I vaguely remembered seeing on his face the other night.  They must have healed.  On the other side of the bed, I noted that the chair the director was sleeping in earlier was still seated close to his side.   

My hand felt like it had a mind of its own as I reached down to graze his left hand.  Still warm.  For some reason, I had half the mind that it would be cold.  After a while of staring at his left arm blankly, I tucked my hand into his and gave it a light squeeze. 

I heard a quick intake of breath behind me and quickly removed my hand before turning.

“My apologies, I didn’t think he would have any more visitors.”  A tall, brown haired doctor - by the look of his coat – was lingering at the doorway.  I shook my head.

“I meant to visit earlier but…”  But what?  I didn’t really have an excuse.

The doctor seemed to understand, however.  “Dr. Todd Gelfand, by the way.”  He extended his hand in greeting and I automatically reached for it in response. 

“My name’s Sophie,”  I bobbed my head toward Gibbs’ bed.  “You’re his doctor I assume.”

Dr. Gelfand smiled in response.  “Yes.  Are you next of kin or…”

“Oh no,” I laughed nervously, feeling embarrassed for some reason.  “I’m his coffee girl…turned friend…Long story.”  I added, seeing his expression. 

“How is he doing?”  I asked, half curious, half wanting to change the subject.  The doctor frowned before answering.

“It’s rather hard to say.  The coma is stable for the most part.  Too stable for my liking, honestly.   Everything up in his brain is perfectly fine.  His body has no real need for this coma state.   I might do another CAT scan today but…” He seemed to trail off before realizing I was still in the room.  “It just seems he would prefer to be in a coma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN – An update after several months o.o my apologies. To be honest, I’m a full season behind in NCIS and currently obsessed with Doctor Who but after getting a few reviews on this, I realized I haven’t updated in a while. So there you go – no intentional Shepard bashing, I just figured the nurse would be angry at her. Reviews are love and hope you had a good holiday!


	14. Chapter 14

“What do you mean?”  I was sure that I had misheard him.

“He prefers a coma.”  He smiled a bit at my obviously confused face before continuing.  “He’s been in a similar coma state once in his life before and that time he had the exact same behavior as now.  A longer coma than necessary, in my opinion.  Mind you, he is older now…”

“So he’s willing himself into a coma?”  My tone sounded incredibly disbelieving, despite myself.  I had since turned back around, staring at Gibbs’ face.  It didn’t seem possible. 

The doctor shifted behind me.  “To put it simply.”  He went on to tell me about Gibbs and his time in Desert Storm.  I admit, I was only half listening.  Besides the doctor’s having a drone like sound, I found that I didn’t really want to know what exactly had happened to Gibbs during his time in Desert Storm or his past in general.  With him, it felt like a sort of sacred rite of passage to know much of anything about him.  I was still shocked I got to even see the inside of his home. 

I just continued to stare at his face.  Looking at his eyelids, I could see them moving left and right , like mini windshield wipers. 

“Sophie!”

I flinched at the loudness of the voice. 

Ducky, bowtie and all, had entered the room.  I glanced backward, surprised both at his presence and the doctor’s disappearance. 

“Where did the doctor go?”

He raised his hand to his chest in a mock offended fashion.  “Right here, my dear.”  He walked closer to me and the bed.  I gave a weak smile in return. 

I had only meet Ducky twice before and both times had been short.  The first time I was meeting up with Abby in her lab just as she was finishing up for the day.  He was already there, talking rather lively about some canoeing experience from when he was younger.  I had a side profile view of him in his usual formal attire.  His arms were gesturing energetically and I found myself picturing a penguin shadowing his movements.  I had hovered outside the entrance uncertainly for a good six minutes before Abby took notice of me.  As usual, she had excitedly waved at me to enter.  Ducky had been very polite, introducing himself as Doctor Mallard and apologizing at least two times for making me wait.  I admit, I was rather distracted by his eccentric bowtie to respond terribly well and he had been off before I could probably introduce myself. 

The second time I had been with Gibbs.  It was a late night type of case.  I usually could tell how severe the case was based on how many coffee runs the team had.  And it had been a more than a few that day.  So, after I had closed up, I headed into the NCIS building.  Most of the entrance guards could recognize me right away; I was known for being the Gibbs team coffee girl.  There had been a few jokes and laughs about it being a long day as they did a quick metal detector scan.  It was a stark difference from when I had first started making runs. There were even jokes about making me my own entrance badge but something told me that probably wasn’t going to be happening.  So my familiar “visitor” badge was pinned to my shirt and glistened orange in the dim lighting.  My footsteps as I exited the elevator into the bullpen sounded like loud thuds in the silence of the building.  Gibbs had raised his head and nodded to me as I approached.  His glasses slipped further down his nose and he pushed them back up.  I wordlessly handed him the canister of coffee I had been holding. 

“Thanks.”  His voice sounded rough from too much use.

“How’s the case?”  I stood next to him rubbing my empty hands together.  Anything to fill the space of the dead building.

“Kidnapping.”  He had answered rather sharply back before taking a swig of coffee and shaking his head.  He paused, looking at me blankly.  “Not very good.”

“For how long?” I had been close enough to the team to know far too many facts of kidnappings and the time periods of them.  I also had at least one can of pepper spray in every purse and backpack I owned.

He looked at his watch and tilted his head.  “Now about 20 hours.”  I frowned, and looked at his desk.  It was a mess of paper files.  There was a picture of a young boy and his family, what looked like phone records, bank records and black and white grainy pictures on full sheets of paper.  Surveillance footage, most likely. 

“Jethro!”  We both had turned to see Ducky walking into the bullpen, a tone of surprise in his voice.  “I thought you said you were going home for the day?”

As he should, I couldn’t help thinking. 

“Just having a look at something.”

“Well, enough looking.”  Ducky had begun to pack up the papers, despite Gibbs’ grunt of disapproval.  “I’m sure the young lady will agree with me that things will look better in the morning.  Two hours of sleep will not help the investigation in the least.  Quite the opposite.”  He jerked his head towards me.  My eyes locked onto his tuff of hair and how it bounced at the movement.  There was an awkward pause before I replied. 

“You should probably sleep, Gibbs.” 

His expression alone screamed his disagreement.

“Jethro…”  I had never heard anyone call him Jethro let alone in that scolding sort of voice.  I half expected Mallard to reveal himself as Gibbs’secret father. 

Gibbs, meanwhile, had his arms crossed over his chest.  His eyes looked small in his glasses as he squinted at Ducky.  He seemed to be debated whether or not to fight Ducky on staying. 

I was about to make some statement about needing to leave when he nodded and took off his glasses.  Ducky nodded his approval as Gibbs began packing up to leave.  I just continued to stand near the desk, unsure of what to do.

“Excuse me, miss.  I believe last time we met I didn’t get your name.”

Ducky was now addressing me and I had to look down at him to make proper eye contact. 

“Sophie, the coffee girl.  Nice to properly meet you, Dr. Mallard.”

He smiled before saying, “So you are to blame for his addiction, eh?”

I must have blushed because he quickly waved his hand to calm me.  “Just a joke, dear.  Good night, Jethro.”  Without preamble, he had taken off again, towards the elevator exit.  I blinked a few times. 

Third time was the charm I suppose.  Abby was the main person that spoke of Ducky and she spoke of him highly.  I myself found him a bit…much.  He reminded me of an old grandfather version of Sherlock.  Very chatting and loud.  Nevertheless, his voice was always warm and welcoming, and I couldn’t fault him now for trying to cheer me up with some humor while I stared at Gibbs connected to all those tubes. 

His hand reached for my right elbow and he patted it gingerly. 

“You look parched.  Maybe some water would do you good.”  His voice was chipper but I could still hear the concern behind it.  I touched my face subconsciously.  Did I really look that bad?

“In fact, while you’re at it, do you mind getting me some as well.”  His hand had withdrawn from my elbow to reach in his chest pocket.  He produced a wallet and began fishing out singles. 

My hands were already raised up in protest but he still placed the bills in my hand and smiled at me.  “There should be enough for the both of us.”

“Doct-“

“I insist.”  His voice had dropped an octave and I half took a step back.  He had turned his head to look back at Gibbs in bed.  He swallowed twice and continued staring at the lying figure. 

I didn’t really know how close Ducky was to Gibbs but in that moment, I felt like an intruder.  I muttered a thank you before stepping out of the room and taking the long way to the bathrooms, where the vending machines were. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- I don’t dislike Ducky at all but I was rereading the story and I didn’t want Sophie to like everyone on the team all the time. That seems rather Mary Sue so this happened. Hope you liked the flashbacks – next chapter Gibbs wakes up! Reviews are love.


	15. Chapter 15

When I starting walking back towards the room, I heard a sort of rustling and multiple voices comes from the room.  Confused, I started to walk faster. 

“Kuwait.”

I froze in the frame of the door at the sound of Gibbs’ voice.  Ducky was on the same side of the bed as I had left him but now the doctor I had spoken to early was on the other and there was a nurse fiddling with the monitoring machines in the background. 

“It’ll all come back, Jethro.”  Ducky’s voice reeked of typical optimism.  The doctor turned his head and gave Ducky a subtle nod towards the door.  Ducky turned around and raised his eyebrows to see me, standing at the door dumbly with two water bottles.  Although he didn’t say anything, he looked a little deflated.

“Are you…”

“Fine, dear.  Thank you for the water.”  He approached me and took the water bottle out of my left hand.  “Why don’t we go outside for a bit?”  His body was partially shielding me from entering the room. 

They wouldn’t get rid of me that fast. 

I walked past him, basically pushing through him to reach the bed.  Gibbs’ eyes were fixed on him.  His brows were scrunched up together and just as I had left him; his skin was pinkish red in scratches and burns.  His eyes, however, had an emotion I had never really seen in them before.  He was scared and very visibly upset.  Maybe it was the contrast between the ugly red all over his skin and the blue in his eyes but they seemed rounded and younger.  They were full of pain, as if in grief.  If I had not known him better, I would have hugged him. 

The doctor straightened up from his original hunched pose over the bed.  “Miss, I’m going to hav-“

“Do you know me?”  Gibbs was studying me.  It must have been what suspects felt like when he bored into them with his gaze.  I wasn’t sure how to answer the question.  Based on what Ducky had said and the look in Gibbs’ eyes, he must have had some sort of memory loss.  My fingers had begun tapping on the bottle in my hand in nervousness.  I glanced at the doctor.  He hadn’t attempted to counter Gibbs’ question or usher me out like he was before his patient had interrupted him.  He offered no support, simply looking at me like we were having a normal conversation about the weather. 

“Hey.”  Despite his voice being unused and quiet, there was still a note of impatience in his soft-spoken word.  His eyes seemed to be searching all over my face for something.  Something familiar. 

“Yes…I’m Sophie.  A friend.”  I looked down at the water bottle as I spoke, feeling scrutinized under his gaze.  Or at least that’s what I told myself.  In general, this complete out of character demeanor of his was unpleasant. It felt like it wasn’t really Gibbs speaking to me.  The words ‘I’m your coffee girl’ died in my mouth.  I didn’t feel like his coffee girl.  This wasn’t the usual Gibbs.

“Leroy, I’m going to need to ask you a few more questions.  Are you feeling up to it?”  Dr.  Gelfand directly addressed Gibbs.  His eyes were still on me. 

“I’m thirsty.”  He stated blandly.  The nurse was quickly shoving a cup and straw in his face and I left the room without another word.  Dr.  Mallard moved to let me leave.  I was already heading the exit the hospital.  I could hear Ducky following behind me and I prayed he wouldn’t try to speak to me.  I just wanted to leave.  My nose hairs were burning as I walked out of Urgent Care as the smell of Windex and what could have been peroxide washed over me. 

“Sophie, could you please wait?”  I whipped my head back and gave Ducky my most uninterested expression I could muster.  If he noticed it, he chose to ignore it.

“Gibbs seems to have lost about fifteen years worth of memory.”  His tone was serious and straight to the point.  “He thinks that he is still serving in Desert Storm.  So naturally he doesn’t really remember anyone.  He had met us yet.”  He paused, waiting for me to respond in some way.  When I remained silent, he continued.  “His doctor seems to think it’s some sort of emotional repression.  While I don’t know about that, I do that it is unlikely he will remember me, you and anyone from the team for a while.  It would be best if you waited before visiting again.”  I breathed to respond but he shook his head.  “I know Jethro and it may cause him more frustration than good if he sees people he doesn’t remember.  I’m sure Tom would agree with me.”

“Who-“

“Dr. Gelfand.  And also,” his tone added ‘before you leave’ to his phrase without outwardly saying such, “I would suggest waiting to telling Abby that he has woke up yet.”

My expression had morphed into a mixed of confusion and irrational anger.  “Abby has been worried sick for days-“

“I’m not saying she will never be told.”  He put his hands up in a defensive fashion.  “But Abby will almost certainly rush here immediately and I don’t think Jethro would be ready for that yet.”

I found that I couldn’t argue with that.

“Is that all?”

He was studied my face.  I was starting to hate people doing that.

“Yes, for now.  Are you sure you are alright dear?”

I just blinked.  I should be fine.  It wasn’t me that was lying in a bed, without a memory of the last fifteen years.  Nor was I Gibbs bosom friend with an obsession with bowties that had known him for years.  And I wasn’t even part of his team of NCIS agents that had known him for longer than I had.  I really didn’t feel like I had a reason to be as affected and ruffled as I felt. 

Especially when I was positive that memory loss was a normal reaction to being in a coma for a few days.  But it felt strange, to see the face of someone I had known, clearly and painfully not know who I was.  It was disorientating.  But I nodded a non-verbal yes.

Ducky didn’t seem convinced. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I really wanted to write about Gibbs waking up. I have been really trying to keep Sophie away from canon moments, just so it could be likely – that’s why she wasn’t there during the actual waking up moment. I think I might have Sophie be there during his hospital recovery next. Reviews are love!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I don’t think canon specifically narrowed down how long Gibbs’ hospital stay was but here it will be longer than a week or so.

I waited ten days before visiting Gibbs again.

The team was investigating on where Gibbs was standing during the incident, something about blood spatter, shrapnel – and a laundry room.  I didn’t want many details and no one from the team was really offering any.  Whether I didn’t hear any more details because of my plain citizen clearance level or the team members being too physically and emotionally drained, I didn’t know. But everyone’s focus was on the investigation and finding out whatever they could about the botched mission Gibbs had been on.

For the first few days, I myself avoided thinking about the situation.  I tried to ignore my urges to visit Gibbs and anyone on the team.  The only remembrance of the team in my life, besides old text messages I found myself flipping though at night, were Tony and Tim ordering coffee from the coffee shop multiple times a day.  Tony’s demeanor seemed to darken every day I saw him getting the usual caffeine kick.  And despite the constant flow of coffee orders, he seemed forever tired.  I was sure he had at least aged a year in the week since his boss’ hospital admission.  It was on the third day that Tony stopped coming and was replaced by Tim.  McGee was much more friendly yet subdued.  His usual awkward bubbliness had been replaced with quiet tension.  Other than that, he offered me weak smiles at the register.  It was from McGee that I learned the details about shrapnel and the laundry room.  He gave me small updates during his coffee trips, though as of late, they had been simple notes on Abby, Ziva and Tony. 

_Tony might end up being as addicted to coffee as the boss at this rate._

_Ah, you know Ziva.  She’s just being…Ziva._

_Abby’s probably taken in the worst.  I’m fairly certain she’s going to make a Gibbs stuffed doll once the screensavers aren’t enough._

The only news about Gibbs he spoke of was that both the Director and his old mentor from fifteen years ago had come to visit him in the hospital. 

_The boss…got frustrated is all the Director would say._

I never reacted or replied to this bits of news.  I just listened and nodded.  It felt wrong to smile at the bad news but it also felt wrong to be so terribly somber about it.  It was the last news McGee spoke about Gibbs, the word “frustrated” that made me reconsider visiting Gibbs.  I had always thought that  I would continue working, and the usual late night gigs, while the team continued the investigation.  One day, maybe tomorrow, maybe a week, McGee would come into the shop with the news that the bomber or suspect had been caught and Gibbs had regained his memory.  Tony was dating a new girl and Gibbs had hand slapped Ziva for being terribly cranky and rude while he was gone.  But more than a week later, Tim, at least, seemed worse for wear and Gibbs’ memory had yet to return. 

Despite it being most likely that Dr. Gelfand would kick me out as soon as I arrived, I still changed out of my work clothes that tenth day and headed for the hospital.  Nurse Washington seemed more than happy to tell me which room Gibbs was moved to. 

“Glad someone actually friendly seems to be visiting him.”

I just blinked, once again shocked by her bluntness. 

When I arrived at the room, the door was open and the bed was empty.  For a moment, I wondered if I had the wrong room, before remembering that McGee had mentioned that the older agent was no longer on strict bedrest.  My eyes scanned the room. 

Not surprisingly, the bed had a well formed human shaped dent in it.  The then bed sheet had been tossed to one side, like someone had gotten out of it recently.  It may have been the smell of cleaning supplies clouding my judgment but the whole room had a bluest, sad hue about it.  There were two cards set to the right hospital nightstand.  I took one step towards them before suddenly hearing a running faucet in the corner of the room. 

“Gibbs?”

There was a faint grunt in reply from what I realized was behind the bathroom door.  I took that as a sign to enter and headed towards the cards.  I couldn’t deny my curiosity.  One of them was the typical sympathy card with some pale looking flowers in front and the words “Get Well” written in script.  Opening it, I was first put off by all the different pen colors and handwritten scattered all over the inside. 

_I’m sure you’ll be back to bossing us around in no time, boss.  Feel better.  – Dinozzo_

_Hoping that you are well. – Ziva_

_Gibbs!  I miss you so much.  I miss your Caw-Pow and scones- call me when you feel better/remember me. – Abby_

_Feel better, boss. – Tim_

There were other people’s messages but I didn’t know too many people outside of the team from NCIS.  It felt strange to see them signing a card like a high school yearbook for this one agent but I was certain that Gibbs was just as much as a legend in the agency as he had first been in the café.  And maybe even more so.  I put the card down and was about to reach for the other when I heard the loud creak of the bathroom door reopening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Felt OOC trying to write the card notes but I tried. Reviews are love! Also side note – I’m behind a few seasons in NCIS – but I didn’t know that apparently Gibbs in the current season is in some sort of hospital operation table. Kinda makes me want to catch up.


	17. Chapter 17

I immediately noticed that his hair was shorter. The sides were now white peach fuzz and it all looked wrong. 

My face must have shown my bewilderment because Gibbs’ eyes narrowed even more than they already were once making eye contact with me. He stood directly outside the bathroom, having stopped to properly stare at me. His body was rigid, almost in defense. Assessing me, so it seemed. While his eyes had since regained that blue piercing factor, the flappy blue hospital gown greatly reduced any intimidation attempts. His face was still burned, yet better. The burns were a duller pink. 

“Hi.” I mumbled. 

I had suddenly become conscious that I was completely empty handed as well as unprepared for this meeting. 

“Hey.”

He stayed at his post.

How do you introduce yourself as a coffee girl he will get to know in 15 years?

“I….I’m so sorry - I don’t think I should have come.” My spine had automatically curved downward in a defeated pose. I held my hands together close to my chest. I just wanted to be small. I had taken one step to left when Gibbs finally stepped forward. 

“No. Stay.”

He waved an arm towards a chair set up neatly next to the left side of his bed. When I didn’t move fast enough, he jerked his head towards the seat and only then did I walk around the bed and past him to the chair. He climbed into bed from the right side I had left. 

Again, it was interesting seeing him being a human, entering a bed. Everything about this situation felt very un-Gibbs like. 

“S….s….”

My eyebrows wrinkled as I looked up to see Gibbs even more intensely staring at me. He repeated the letter S a few times. 

“Sharon? Sarah?” He hit the side of his head in between names in frustration. 

It took willpower to keep my facial expression as neutral as possible. There was a tightness in my chest that pinched.

“Sophie. Sophie is my name.” 

“Sophie,” he repeated. “Sophie.”

A pause.

“You don’t work for me.”

Even though it was a statement, it was also clearly a question. 

“Not directly anyway, no. I work at a coffee shop near NCIS and I’ve served you coffee for the last couple years.”

His head tilted as he processed what I said. 

“I’ve been referenced more than once as your coffee girl - the Gibbs coffee girl - in the agency.” I continued on, filling the silence. My mouth formed into a smile as I say my title of sorts.

“How do I like my coffee?”

For a second, I think it is a test but his face seemed genuinely curious as to what I would answer. 

“Incredibly strong. A little sugar and no milk.” And not made by Walter but I don’t say that part. “It took me awhile to get your order - the first time I tried, you had immediately said how weak it was.”

“It made more sense after having your coffee at your place, which is literal tar. I had to wash out the taste in the sink.”

He let out a bark of laughter at that and I noticed his body relax a bit. His shoulders lowered just enough to make him look more like an injured civilian than an injured soldier. 

“Still like it black.” He stated again.

I nodded. 

He glanced up to the opposite wall and I follow his eyesight. The tiny room TV is on, but on mute. There is a brunette anchorwoman with dark green eyes on the screen, arms folded too formally. In the background, there's a square of clip art with yellow caution tape. I assume there’s been a murder somewhere. 

“You’ve been to my place.” His eyes were still watching the screen as he addressed me. It’s a step towards normal Gibbs’ behavior however, so I’m ok with it. “Is it still a house or have I moved into those shoe boxes I see on TV?”

I couldn’t picture Gibbs in an apartment. He seemed too big for such a space, even in his injured state. 

“It’s still a house. There’s stained glass on the front door - a fireplace - “ I tried to think of details that he would want to know. “There’s a basement, where you have your boat you’re making.”

He turned back to me and frowned. “A boat?”

“A giant boat. It’s the fourth one you’ve made, I think.” 

“A wooden boat?”

“Yeah...I wish I had a picture.” I looked back down at my hands, his eye contact far too intense. “It’s wooden, takes up a lot of your basement...I don’t remember its name. I don’t think you’ve named it yet. Wait-”

I remembered a time I had been in his basement and he had tried naming it. 

He didn’t announce it; he was forever Gibbs. I had been seated on a stool with a jar of water in one hand. Nancy was at my feet, her breathing throwing up more sawdust into the air. We were talking very shortly about my impending purchase of a new car. 

Based on the unnecessary vigor Gibbs was sanding down the wood with that night, I had opted not to ask about work. I had known it was a kidnapping thanks to McGee. I was honestly surprised that the team had gotten Gibbs to come home on a kidnapping case, knowing that they seemed to affect him the most. But there he was, sanding down the wood to oblivion as he verbally paddled on about how I should get a high rise car. Perhaps paddling was the wrong word; Gibbs was ordering me to get a high rise car. 

“I think an SUV is excessive, not to mention out of my price range.” I swooshed the jar in the air as I spoke. 

At that point, Gibbs had gotten up and headed to the back of the boat’s hull. On instinct, I followed him and I heard Nancy’s nails clatter as she got up as well.

“It’s worth it.” He said, taking a wood pencil out of his sweatshirt pouch. I wondered idly what else was in there.

“You could get a loan.”

“I have enough student loans thanks.”

Gibbs’ hand waved a shape just over the wood with the pencil. He mimed the motion a few times. I couldn’t make out the shape with his wrinkled hand in the way.

“I didn’t mean a bank loan.”

More pencil waving. Nancy had settling down again at his feet this time. I took a gulp from my water jar. 

“You could ask people you know for a loan. I would give you a loan.”

I nearly choked on my water but swallow it down at the last second. But I still coughed, punching my throat with a fist. 

He doesn’t turn around, knowing too well how embarrassed I would be if he did. 

“I’m serious.”

Finally, his pencil made contact with wood and he formed two letters on the hull. A wavy capital K and a lowercase e. 

“Gibbs, I couldn’t do that - “ He stopped and turned to me. His face is his standard stubborn Gibbs face. But it doesn’t move me since it is connected this time to a whole financial car loan. “I’m a student, yes but taking whole loans from anyone while I’m still working and getting gigs - I would feel like a freeloader.”

I left that night early, having whatever one could call a somewhat gentle argument with Gibbs about loans and general financial help not being welcome. There wasn’t any yelling but he had been very quick to interrupt me in the discussion. I don’t come down to the basement for a while after that. But the next time I do, the letters are gone.

Meanwhile, hospital Gibbs hung on my every word with no interruptions. I had the strange sense I was one of the few people that was point blank giving him information. 

“The name at one point started with K and an e.” I didn’t want to explain why I only knew a section of it.

But those letters seemed to move him to his core because his eyes darkened and his eyebrows scrunched in pain. 

“Gibbs?” Was he remembering?

“Kelly.”

“I named the boat Kelly.”

He was shaking his head now and his eyes were shining in new wetness. Raising a bandaged hand, he wiped his eyes dry. It’s still bizarre seeing him so openly emotional but I still don’t feel privileged enough in the moment to reach out for him.

“...Kelly?”

He looked back at me in confusion. 

Was I supposed to know who Kelly was?

“My daughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were a few reviews on FF.net and kudos on here that made me go back and reread this fan fiction. Then I watched the last 5 episodes of NCIS and this happened.
> 
> It's been two years since my last update - I am now a senior in university and I honestly never thought I would update this - but the writing bug has been hitting me recently. It's my last day of spring break so for the next three months, I'll be once again into classes and now my impending graduation xD 
> 
> Thank you for reading <3 - see you soon/maybe not so soon? I don't think I can fully let go of this fanfic so there will be more chapters to come I expect.


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